


Five Times Kurt Almost Sees Blaine's Curly Hair and One Time He Actually Does (For the Second Time)

by modernepitaph



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modernepitaph/pseuds/modernepitaph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set through "Prom-a-Saurus"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Kurt Almost Sees Blaine's Curly Hair and One Time He Actually Does (For the Second Time)

1\. 

Kurt gets up extra early. Much earlier than he needs, really, but he’s starting his first week at Dalton and the combination of nerves and excitement keeps him tossing and turning until he decides to give up and spend extra time on his hair. 

He studies himself in the mirror, plain white shirt buttoned to his neck, tie hung loosely over his shoulders. He looks behind him to the blazer hanging on his closet door, pressed and ready to blend in. He closes his eyes, studiously not thinking of the reason why he’s leaving McKinley. 

He doesn’t think of beefy arms, of a red and white jacket, of the feeling that eyes are always watching him. Instead, he sees warm hazel eyes, a bright smile and someone who has the ability to stand out even while blending into a sea of navy and red.  
Kurt opens his eyes again and smiles to himself before scowling at the blush that has spread over his face and down his neck.

_I won’t think about Blaine that way I won’t think about Blaine that wa-_

It’s a useless mantra, and he knows it.

When his hair is coiffed to his liking, he glances at a picture of himself and Mercedes from last year tucked into the corner of his mirror -- his bangs dropped low over his forehead, a smile that he remembers forcing onto his face; he feels like such a far cry from that boy now.

He knots the tie around his neck, smoothing his collar down over the red and blue fabric. He grabs his blazer, his bag, his keys and tiptoes through his dark house, shutting the front door behind him with a quiet _snick_.

It’s not a short drive to Westerville. The thought of doing this twice a day is daunting, and he starts to wonder if he could apply for some sort of housing scholarship. As he nears Dalton campus, he feels himself nodding off and with a jolt realizes he’s pulled into the parking lot of a coffee shop. Thanking his subconscious, he wanders in, orders a coffee and finds a table near the window. 

It’s barely past 7 am; the sun is just rising up and around the buildings, burning off the overnight clouds. He’s got almost an hour to kill before classes start when the idea hits him. He grabs his things, orders another coffee and heads to campus. 

It takes him 20 minutes of wracking his brain to remember the way to Blaine’s dorm, but he’s reasonably sure the door he’s been pacing in front of is Blaine’s. He considers texting him to make sure but he’s too proud of the coffee surprise. Shaking his head at himself, he knocks on the door and a quiet _One sec!_ sounds out.

Kurt cautiously pushes the door open. “Blaine?” He peers into the room, seeing a messy bed, a desk covered in books and sheet music. The room is dark, probably for the boy Kurt notices still sleeping in the other bed. The light from the bathroom is covered briefly when a figure appears in the doorway.

“Kurt?” Blaine looks at him, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, hands attempting to tame what appears to be a mess of curly hair. His eyes widen suddenly, like he just realizing how un-put together he must look – and he _does_ – and he shrieks, stepping back into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

His roommate grumbles, turning his face into his pillow and Kurt holds the coffee out uselessly in front of him. 

“I got you a coffee,” he offers up, voice rising at the end like it’s a question. 

“Yeah, I – just a minute,” comes muffled through the door. When it re-opens, Kurt is still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, and Blaine looks like Blaine again, hair gelled down, red sweater over a white collar shirt, sheepish grin on his face. 

“Hey.”

Kurt looks up at him, forces a smile and offers up the paper cup again.

“Thanks,” Blaine smiles widely this time, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder and sipping the coffee. He hoists his bag over his shoulder and offers his arm out. “Shall we?”

Kurt feels that heat in his face again, suddenly thankful for the darkness of the room. He heaves in a breath – _breathe, Kurt, breathe_ – and takes Blaine’s arm.

 

2.

It is miserably hot and Kurt has been standing in the sun for close to an hour. 

He pulls the sunscreen out of his bag and reapplies for what seems like the hundredth time. _You’d think they would at least put shade over the seats._ He uses his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead and to keep the melting sunscreen from dripping into his eyes and is immediately disgusted with himself and the state of his now sweaty forearm.

Blaine is dancing on stage, tacky colored clothes bouncing in and around the other dancers, all big smiles and sweaty skin. The routine ends to applause and the audience scatters to find cooler areas of the park while the group of stage retreats back to the shade of the backstage dressing rooms. Kurt hurries to the side of the stage where he is tackled, arms wrapped around him and he feels 100 degrees hotter.

“No, no, ew!” he tries pushing Blaine off of him, but struggles when Blaine just laughs and hugs him tighter. “You are _disgusting_ right now!”

Blaine’s chest is heaving with laughter and exertion from the show and Kurt knows he’ll ride this high for the rest of the day but seriously the heat and the sweat and the way Blaine’s hair is frizzing in the humidity is just too much for Kurt right now. 

Kurt has to do a double-take on Blaine’s hair. The gel, it seems, has melted down the back of his neck and left behind a goopy, curly mess. Blaine watches Kurt’s eyes looking somewhere above him and he reaches a tentative hand up to his hair. 

When he touches hair several inches away from his scalp, he groans and grabs a towel hanging over a railing next to them. 

He wraps the towel around his head. “My ah—my hair and humidity aren’t such good friends.”

Kurt hides a smile behind his hand. “I can see that.”

“It’s the humidity! I don’t look like this, even without the gel!” Blaine uses the corner of the towel to tease Kurt’s cheeks.

“Blaine Anderson, if you value your life, you will get your sweat towel away from my face,” Kurt looks at him seriously, “Now.”

Blaine’s nose scrunches up, his eyes narrow, “Challenge accepted.” 

In a swift move, he flips the towel from his head and wraps it around Kurt’s, who shouts out, arms rising immediately to remove the cloth. 

“Blaine!” He looks up in disbelief, sweaty towel in hand, as Blaine darts back to the dressing rooms, laughing.

“Gotta shower, Kurt. Be out in a few!”

Kurt shakes his head, shrugging to himself before using the towel to wipe off his own neck and face.

“The things I do for love,” he mutters to himself.

 

3.

It is two weeks before school starts up and Kurt spends every day frantically questioning Blaine about whether or not he is transferring to McKinley. And every time, Blaine just smiles and says, “Oh, I’m not sure yet.” 

It’s infuriating.

It doesn’t take long before Kurt starts plotting his revenge on Blaine for keeping him in the dark. The opportunity arises when Santana throws an end of the summer pool party for the glee club and texts Kurt, _You can invite Blaine. Wait, can hobbits swim?_

Kurt presents the invite innocently enough, and Blaine accepts enthusiastically.  
Mike has taken over grill duty, Mercedes and Artie hand out sodas and refill bowls of chips and Rachel is polling everyone for what her karaoke set list should be. 

“Want to get in the water?” Tina looks down at where Blaine and Kurt are sitting under an umbrella on the porch.

Kurt shakes his head, piercing another piece of watermelon with his fork. “’M eatin’,” he says around the piece already in his mouth.

“Nah, I’m not really big on swimming,” Blaine mutters.

Santana nudges the back of Kurt’s chair and gives him a look that says _I knew it!_

“But you _can_ swim?” Tina asks, looking around nervously.

Blaine raises an eyebrow, “Yes, I _can_ swim,” Santana shakes her head behind him, “I just—maybe later?”

Tina nods, sidling up next to Mike at the grill, her eyes on Blaine, glinting mischievously.

Blaine looks around to everyone staring at him, Puck and Finn advancing menacingly, and glances to Kurt; the smile on Kurt’s face is pure evil. 

Blaine realizes what is going on, jumping from his chair, and making for the house when Puck rounds on him, grabbing his shoulders and Finn wraps an arm around his waist, hoisting him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

Blaine beats his fists over Finn’s back, his feet kicking uselessly in the air as they carry him through the yard.

Over the laughter he hears, “Deep breath, dude!” from Puck and hits the water.

Kurt is trying to stay upright in his seat but is laughing too hard when suddenly there is an arm wrapped over his shoulders and one under his knees, heaving him into the air.

“Wait, no, no! Put me dow--” he shouts but his mouth snaps shut when he realizes it is _Brittany_ who’s carrying him around the yard towards the pool. The laughter from the porch doubles as Kurt struggles against the surprisingly strong cheerleader.

“Britt, _what_ are you doing?”

“Santana said that hobbits can’t swim,” she says in a panic. “Save him!” she shouts, tossing Kurt into the pool after him. When he surfaces, spitting water, the noise from the porch is ridiculous. Everyone is pounding Puck and Finn on the back, and Santana hugs Brittany, tears of joy streaming down her face as her body shakes with laughter.

Kurt wipes his hair out of his face, and looks around for Blaine, who is treading water a few feet away. To Kurt’s great dismay, Blaine’s hair is still perfectly gelled. Kurt can’t decide whether he wants to smack or kiss the smile off of Blaine’s face. He opts for the latter, swimming over to Blaine. 

“How?” he asks, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and nodding up to his hair.

“Waterproof hair gel,” Blaine smiles, arms snaking around Kurt’s waist. “Got it on Amazon.”

Kurt looks into Blaine’s eyes, trapping him in his gaze, bringing his hands up over his cheeks. Blaine keeps kicking to stay afloat, staring back at Kurt, licking his lips as his eyes drop to Kurt’s mouth, which is set in another evil smile. Blaine cocks his head to the side.

Kurt puts his hands atop Blaine’s head and throws all his weight onto it, dunking him below the water, scrambling his fingers through Blaine’s hair. 

 

4\. 

The week after the scandal at Scandals is awkward, but luckily they are both so busy with West Side Story rehearsals that neither of them has to come up with excuses to avoid talking to one another. After each run through, Blaine retreats to the showers and Kurt heads home. The only things they both diligently ignore are the questioning glances from their friends. 

After opening night, Kurt finds Blaine practicing on stage, and the frustrated look on his face is too much for Kurt to take. He knows how Blaine beats himself up and, when he is honest with himself, Kurt just plain _misses_ Blaine, which he knows isn’t a good reason to end a fight, but the pain of not being around Blaine outweighs the hurt he feels about that night in the parking lot. 

They go back to Blaine’s empty house and explore each other for the first time. They are all shaking fingers and shuddering breaths and quiet whispers of encouragement and he feels _closer_ to Blaine as a person than ever before. 

The fight is forgotten. Sebastian may as well not exist. Blaine is his first _everything_ that matters, and Kurt constantly has to remind himself that this is _real_ , that he loves someone who returns his affection wholeheartedly, and they’ve both taken the first step together in the physical embodiment of their love. The emotion fills Kurt and it takes all the strength he has not to cry at the beauty of it.

They lay together, legs tangled, faces close, breathing in each other’s scent, a lazy finger trailing over skin, the soft brush of knuckles over a cheek. The sweat has cooled on their skin, leaving them both slightly sticky but they are too comfortable to move, to disturb the connection between them.

“Do you--,” Blaine breaks the silence after a few minutes, his voice low and hoarse. Kurt looks at him questioningly, eyelids drooping. “Will you take a shower with me?”

Kurt’s heart races, his eyes falling shut.

“You don’t have—” Blaine’s protest is quieted when Kurt presses his lips softly against Blaine’s. 

“Yes.”

Blaine pushes Kurt onto his back, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “Wait here.”

Kurt hears the water start in the en suite bathroom. He stretches his arms up over his head, arches his back, points his toes out, sighing at the satisfying _pops_ in his limbs. He opens his eyes when he feels a hand on his ankle and he looks up to see Blaine hovering at the end of the bed, smiling at him nervously. 

Kurt takes the offered hand, following him into the bathroom that is filling with steam, leaving Blaine’s hair curling at his temple. Kurt gingerly steps into the large shower behind Blaine, who turns and wraps his arms around Kurt’s back, leaning his cheek onto his shoulder. Kurt hangs his arms low around Blaine’s waist, pulling him close. 

They hold each other for a long moment; Kurt revels in the fact that there is nothing sexual about the embrace. That they are naked barely registers. He loves that they crave this closeness, that they can simply hold each other in any situation and be surrounded by comfort and love.

Kurt shifts them a step so they are standing under the hot spray from the showerhead. Blaine groans into Kurt’s neck as the tension in his muscles seeps away. 

“I love you so much,” Blaine whispers into his skin. “So much.”

Kurt doesn’t want to break the intimacy of the moment but at the desperate note in Blaine’s voice, he pulls back, his hands framing Blaine’s shoulders. He takes a second to admire the way the rivulets of water run over Blaine’s hair, down his muscular chest. His fingers snake up over Blaine’s neck, around his ears and into the wet curls. He wraps his fingers into Blaine’s hair, moving close to press a kiss to Blaine’s cheek, over his eyelids, to the tip of his nose. He pulls back with the hint of a smile on his face.

“I love you,” Kurt murmurs, twisting Blaine’s curls around his fingers and pulling him back against his body. Kurt feels the soft kiss Blaine presses into his neck followed by a smile. 

They let the water run cold.

 

5.

Kurt doesn’t remember ever being so scared in his life. His breath comes in shakes and shudders; Rachel is crying in front of them, her body twisted around, hand resting awkwardly on Blaine’s ankle. He lies curled up on the bench seat, entire body shaking, hand pressed tight over his eye. Finn swears from the driver’s seat when he’s stopped by another red light.

Kurt tries his best to calm his nerves. He runs a hand over Blaine’s waist, the other stroking lightly over his hair.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“My eye,” Blaine whimpers, sniffing. “The slushy—”

“I know,” Kurt nods, a tear running down his cheek. “He did something to it.”

It all happened so quickly. One minute they were singing; the next Blaine was on the ground, his screams echoing through the parking garage. Kurt was next to him in an instant, only taking his eyes off Blaine to watch Sebastian, the Warblers – _our friends_ – walk away. 

Blaine writhes against Kurt’s lap, groaning every time Finn hits a pothole in the road.

“Sorry, dude! We’re almost there.”

“The state of Lima’s roads really is deplorable,” Rachel begins, stopping her tirade at the withering look Kurt gives her. “Sorry. Blaine, honey,” she pets over his ankle again, “We’ll be there soon, okay?”

He nods against Kurt’s leg, sniffing again. 

Finn drops them off in the emergency bay, and Kurt gingerly wraps his arm under Blaine’s shoulder, leading him step by step into the waiting area. Blaine sinks blindly into a chair, hands still pressed tight over his face. Rachel sits next to him, rubbing a soothing hand between his shoulder blades while Kurt talks to the receptionist. The nurses take Blaine to the back, call his parents and shoo Kurt and Rachel away, just as Finn comes jogging through the entrance.

Kurt stares blankly out the window the entire way home, doesn’t respond to Rachel’s reassurances when they drop her off at her house, and can’t keep his eyes closed that night for more than a minute before he sees Blaine lying in the sticky red syrup on the harsh concrete floor. 

He jolts awake when his phone buzzes on his nightstand. Rubbing his eyes, he grabs it and tries to focus his eyes on the screen.

 ** _Blaine <3:_** Come over

He texts back a quick _On my way_ before pulling on jeans, a simple t-shirt and boots, and heading to Blaine’s.

Blaine’s mom lets him in, a strained smile on her face. “He’s upstairs.”

He reaches Blaine’s door and is almost afraid of what he’ll find inside. He knocks softly and pushes the door open. 

Blaine is tucked into bed, clad in his pajamas, his hair unevenly gelled. Eye patch over his right eye. Kurt frowns in sympathy.

“You’re home already?”

Blaine looks up at him pitifully. “A few hours ago,” he clears his throat, “They gave me a bunch of painkillers and set an appointment for tomorrow with an ortha—- ophthal-- eye surgeon. To see how bad it is.”

“How bad is it?” Kurt asks, climbing onto the bed to sit next to Blaine. Blaine reaches over and bats at Kurt’s thigh before taking his hand.

“Sorry, I can’t—depth perception,” he takes in a deep breath. “I don’t know. It hurts. And I can’t stand this eye patch. I keep running into things.”

“You should just stay in bed; let people take care of you for once,” Kurt squeezes his hand and looks at Blaine’s hair. “Like for instance, letting me fix your hair for you.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Blaine reaches his free hand up and taps over the gelled part before reaching a curly patch that he missed completely. “Damn it.”

Kurt chuckles next to him. “Never fear,” he whispers dramatically, “Kurt is here.”

 

+1 

He tugs him into the room by the lapel of his tux, pressing him into the door as soon as it shuts.

He nips over Blaine’s mouth, down his jaw, sucking a lovely bruise into his neck. 

“How did you get Rachel to give you the room keys?” Blaine asks breathlessly, his hand resting gently on the back of Kurt’s head. 

“I told her my parents were out of town and that she and Finn should go there,” Kurt mumbles into his skin, running his hands through Blaine’s curly hair. He pulls back and walks backwards to the bed, tugging Blaine along.

“But,” Blaine starts, a confused look on his face as he falls onto Kurt on the mattress. He leans down to drop a quick kiss on his lips. “They were home when I picked you up.”

“I know,” Kurt grins mischievously up at him. “But Rachel doesn’t know that.”

Blaine throws his head back and laughs. “You are evil.”

Kurt grasps onto Blaine by his hair and bites down onto his shoulder as Blaine gasps above him. “You know it.”


End file.
